possessed. She crumbled into his shoulder, half-sobbing, half-screaming as he punctuated his remark with a dozen strokes, ultimately coming in raucous silence and blessed, mind-numbing heat.
• • •
Afterward, he carried me, facing him, my arms and legs wrapped about his stripped form, to his bedroom, where we used the bed for the purpose it had been made.
I awoke somewhere between midnight and dawn, aware that he too was awake, sitting up, eyes lost in the hazy space where the ocean and sea melded. My head was resting on his abdomen and his fingers were absently stroking my hair. Rolling to my back, I reached up and caressed his cheek with the knuckles of my left hand. “A penny for your thoughts?”
He never looked down at me, just kept staring out at the crashing sea. “I’ve never slept in this bed with anyone but you.”
I was disturbed by the revelation and his sudden detachedness. “Why not?”
“Giovanni doesn’t like anyone in his room. He’s obsessive about keeping the second floor off limits.”
It was bizarre to hear the man beside me talk of himself in the third person
.
“What about Brad?”
His chest lifted my head with a deep breath. “It’s tearing out his soul that you’re going with Alberto.”
I sat up then, wondering how we’d gotten it all so backwards. “Brad, I
have
to go to Bogotá.”
The dark eyes met mine at long last. Every bit of Brad’s warmth and humor squeezed from them. “Which is why this won’t ever happen again.”
Chapter Eleven
A lasdair watched me through binoculars as the Lear jet set down on the rain slicked runway at El Dorado International Airport. It rolled to a halt some distance from the main terminal. Three silver Audi Q7’s pulled up next to us, and four huge men emerged from each. By now, the hatchway had opened, and two equally intimidating bodyguards stepped out onto the extending stairs, eyeing the surrounding perimeter with expert care.
One of SIS’s techies had given me a specially modified iPod, and I’d tuned into a playlist that was actually live feed from Alasdair’s helicopter.
“More bloody ex-IRA. The whole goddamn country’s run amok with them.”
The helicopter pilot laughed. “O’ Conner’s going to be the fastest growing surname after Sanchez.”
Snorting, Alasdair continued to watch as Sanchez and his daughter emerged under the sheltered care of the AK-47’s. They descended quickly, moving into the throng of men and entering the middle vehicle.
“Where the hell is she?”
At that moment, the pink carrying case must have come into sight, followed by my arm. The cat’s crate was awkward, and I thanked one of the men who jumped to my aid.
“Agent Board has reached Starbucks.”
As soon I reached the ground, I took one of the bodyguard’s hands and stepped onto the rear running board. The door was closed behind me and within four minutes of the plane setting down, the jet was moving off again down the runway in the opposite direction of our three heavily armored SUV’s.
I heard Alasdair say, “Cross your fingers, mate, she’s on her own now, loose in the land of the Tiger and Tejo.”
“What’s Tejo?” the pilot asked.
“It’s a game they play in the highlands here, where boys throw flat stones at explosive caps.”
I heard their helicopter lift off. “Sounds like the sort of thing I played as a kid in Belfast.”
“But did you put landmines in your enemies’ shoes and toss rocks at their feet until they blew up?”
“I’d wager your boys from Belfast there gave Sanchez’s men the idea.”
The playlist ended, and I removed my headphones, wondering about the man locals called El Tigrè. Wondering if Brad’s reservations hadn’t been right from the beginning.
• • •
Two months had passed since Sanchez’s jet had landed in Bogotá. Two months since I had moved inside the high walls of my employer’s massive hacienda. Having come armed with as much information as
• • •
Afterward, he carried me, facing him, my arms and legs wrapped about his stripped form, to his bedroom, where we used the bed for the purpose it had been made.
I awoke somewhere between midnight and dawn, aware that he too was awake, sitting up, eyes lost in the hazy space where the ocean and sea melded. My head was resting on his abdomen and his fingers were absently stroking my hair. Rolling to my back, I reached up and caressed his cheek with the knuckles of my left hand. “A penny for your thoughts?”
He never looked down at me, just kept staring out at the crashing sea. “I’ve never slept in this bed with anyone but you.”
I was disturbed by the revelation and his sudden detachedness. “Why not?”
“Giovanni doesn’t like anyone in his room. He’s obsessive about keeping the second floor off limits.”
It was bizarre to hear the man beside me talk of himself in the third person
.
“What about Brad?”
His chest lifted my head with a deep breath. “It’s tearing out his soul that you’re going with Alberto.”
I sat up then, wondering how we’d gotten it all so backwards. “Brad, I
have
to go to Bogotá.”
The dark eyes met mine at long last. Every bit of Brad’s warmth and humor squeezed from them. “Which is why this won’t ever happen again.”
Chapter Eleven
A lasdair watched me through binoculars as the Lear jet set down on the rain slicked runway at El Dorado International Airport. It rolled to a halt some distance from the main terminal. Three silver Audi Q7’s pulled up next to us, and four huge men emerged from each. By now, the hatchway had opened, and two equally intimidating bodyguards stepped out onto the extending stairs, eyeing the surrounding perimeter with expert care.
One of SIS’s techies had given me a specially modified iPod, and I’d tuned into a playlist that was actually live feed from Alasdair’s helicopter.
“More bloody ex-IRA. The whole goddamn country’s run amok with them.”
The helicopter pilot laughed. “O’ Conner’s going to be the fastest growing surname after Sanchez.”
Snorting, Alasdair continued to watch as Sanchez and his daughter emerged under the sheltered care of the AK-47’s. They descended quickly, moving into the throng of men and entering the middle vehicle.
“Where the hell is she?”
At that moment, the pink carrying case must have come into sight, followed by my arm. The cat’s crate was awkward, and I thanked one of the men who jumped to my aid.
“Agent Board has reached Starbucks.”
As soon I reached the ground, I took one of the bodyguard’s hands and stepped onto the rear running board. The door was closed behind me and within four minutes of the plane setting down, the jet was moving off again down the runway in the opposite direction of our three heavily armored SUV’s.
I heard Alasdair say, “Cross your fingers, mate, she’s on her own now, loose in the land of the Tiger and Tejo.”
“What’s Tejo?” the pilot asked.
“It’s a game they play in the highlands here, where boys throw flat stones at explosive caps.”
I heard their helicopter lift off. “Sounds like the sort of thing I played as a kid in Belfast.”
“But did you put landmines in your enemies’ shoes and toss rocks at their feet until they blew up?”
“I’d wager your boys from Belfast there gave Sanchez’s men the idea.”
The playlist ended, and I removed my headphones, wondering about the man locals called El Tigrè. Wondering if Brad’s reservations hadn’t been right from the beginning.
• • •
Two months had passed since Sanchez’s jet had landed in Bogotá. Two months since I had moved inside the high walls of my employer’s massive hacienda. Having come armed with as much information as
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